


After the Game

by auronlu



Category: FFX
Genre: Canon - Behind-the-Scenes, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auronlu/pseuds/auronlu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wakka and Rikku have a chat just after the pilgrimage draws to a close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynnxlady](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lynnxlady).



"Hey."

"Hey." Wakka was still sitting up on the deck, punching his blitzball into the metal plate beside him over and over. He looked up to see Rikku dancing (not dancing, he corrected himself; she was just so full of energy that it seemed that way) too near the edge. "Have a seat." He patted the hull next to himself.

Rikku scratched her chin and ambled over, landing on the deck with a bounce. She kicked her heels out in front of herself and stretched, reaching towards her toes.

"So, um... how's Yuna?" he asked conversationally, staring straight ahead. The clouds pooled out around them seemed to hold tactile depths, as if one could take a running leap off the nose of the ship and dive, swim, fly...

"Yunie's asleep." She wrinkled her nose. "I think. Lulu shooed me out, and then Kimahri shooed _her_ out."

"Yeah." He sighed. "She'll be okay, ya know? She don't look it, but Yuna's tough."

"_I_ know that." Rikku punched his elbow absently. Wakka raised his head with a start and mock-glared at her. He didn't bother to say it: _Who'd a thunk I'd be sittin' up here at the end of the pilgrimage, hangin' out with an Al Bhed heathen?_ Shaking his head, his expression quickly dissolved into a self-deprecating grin. Rikku sat a little straighter, cocked her head wisely at him, and waggled a finger. "I came up here to check on _you_, you big dummy."

"Huh?" He ran a hand through the wild shock of hair that always bounced right back up, to her neverending fascination. Maybe he used Guado hair gel. "Oh, Lu sent you?"

Rikku exhaled explosively. "No, Lulu did _not_ send me. Like, we just beat up Sin forever and that's gotta feel good even if we got rid of your stupid Yevon, and I _told_ you the pilgrimage was dumb and maybe _now_ you'll believe me, only then Auron had to be dead and--" the tumbled stream of words slowly dried up and dwindled to a faint murmur, "and Tidus."

The blitzer hung his head. "Ya. I still don't get it. I don't think I ever will."

Rikku scooted a little closer. "He said you found him. You were the first person who took him in after he fell off our boat. Because he..." she paused. "He looked like someone you knew."

"My brodda Chappu, ya." Wakka mashed the ball again. There was a faint hiss. Rikku guessed the blitzball was starting to lose the battle. "Man, I'm really gonna--"

Wakka paused. It was one thing to be sitting having a perfectly civil conversation with a heathen who just helped you overthrow your god. It was quite another to start bawling like an idiot in front of some girl. Wakka pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes. "I'm beat," he said softly. "You got any brothers or sisters, Rikku?"

"Only the big lump downstairs who's _flying_ this bird, remember?"

Wakka's jaw dropped. "_He's_ your brother? It figures."

"Just as blockheaded as you are," Rikku retorted, then reached out and set a hand on Wakka's upper arm. "Wakka."

It was also quite another matter to see green-spiraled eyes holding back tears, trying to be grown-up and Legendary Guardian and happy-go-lucky, maybe just to keep from breaking down in front of some blockheaded Yevonite who didn't understand.

"Hey," he said quietly, lifting his arm and rolling the blitzball down under one of his legs to make room for her.

Rikku stared at Wakka, sizing him up like one of those dratted machina as if searching for exactly the right part to pull out in order to make him go to pieces. Then she sidled closer and snuggled against him, tufts of blond hair tickling the underside of his jaw. "I'm gonna miss him too," she mumbled.

Damned Al Bhed. She'd found just the right part.


End file.
